When Worlds Collide
by Cami of Queenscove
Summary: cHAPTER 2 IS UP PPLZ!!!!! A DBZ/TP crossover. I'm going into uninhabitated territory with this one, people. Basically, 50 yrs. after Roger died the 1st time, he's back. Alanna goes to the future to seek out powerful mages (the z fighters) R&R!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Tortall and everyone in it belong to Tamora Pierce, and DBZ belongs to Akira Toriyama. Any questions my young and inane apprentices? Or do I have to turn you into a tree to get my point across???!! *thunder, lightning, pouring rain, the whole cycle, booms in the distance.* Ha. Ok, that really wasn't funny.  
  
  
  
When Worlds Collide  
  
  
  
Trunks Briefs Vegeta, future owner of Capsule Corporation, heir to the Saiyan thrown, and one of the most bootylicious guys around (at least in his little universe), frowned. His mother had wanted him to work on some statistics for the company. She had argued that he needed to get this experience to be able to maintain Capsule Corporation in the future, so that when the right time came, he would be ready to take her place. Of course, the answer was no, but when she threatened to yell "Vegeta" he grabbed the papers out of her hands and secluded himself in the office that he had secured by an internship at his mother's company.  
  
"Why almighty Dende, why? Why do I have to be cursed with such an easily bribed persona? Everyone has something against me, I tell you! Why??" Trunks banged his hands on the desk and stood up, anger flooding through the pupils of his eyes. He turned to the doorway, intending to leave this very instant for the reason of insubordinate parents, when he realized that a rather stunning, petite girl was watching him.  
  
Her curly hair was a fiery crimson, a color that made his blood pulsate in his skin. She donned a red business suit type blazer, with a v-neck sweater under it. Her skirt was reasonably short, about five inches about her knees. Full lips and a soft mouth colored scarlet overshadowed a rather stubborn chin. Her eyes were the things that stunned him though. They were a deep amethyst; purple to the core. They blazed with illumination and animation, abuz with the life the goddess had given the young. Trunks' breath held in his chest, as the girl raised an eyebrow queerly.  
  
"I was told that Trunks Briefs worked at this place." The girl folded her arms crossly. "Perhaps I was wrong. I always took Trunks Briefs to be of sane origin." Trunks blushed and held out a hand.  
  
"I'm Trunks Briefs, not doubt about it. Please, excuse my rather questionable behavior before," he replied as she shook his hand. "So what brings you to my humble little abode?"  
  
"Business," she answered curtly. "I understand that you have a rather substantial quantity to power stored inside that physique of yours." She slapped his stomach, testing her hypothesis. "The abdomen of a fighter. You will prove useful enough." Trunks backed away, unsure of the woman that had so mysteriously appeared to him.  
  
"Excuse me, but who are you to judge?" Trunks snarled at her, glowering at the person who had attacked his pride.  
  
She held a thin finger to his face. Looking closer, he saw that the finger was anything but delicate. It held calluses from long ago battles, sores from past encounters that had harmed her dainty figure. He glanced at the rest of her body with superhuman speed, seeing that she was not the perfect figure he had thought. Scar tissue lined her chest and face; bruises and abrasions ran over her skin, disfiguring her. Trunks pulled back, a sympathetic look on his face. The woman left her scowl behind and instead, formed her face into a look of confusion.  
  
"What's the matter?" she grunted, reminding him of his father, in a way.  
  
"Who did that to you?" he asked in a softer manner than he had done previously. It was a weak attempt of a flirt, but it was the best he could muster. She blinked, then chuckled and smiled at his ludicrousity.  
  
"These old scars?" she asked, pointing to one on her arm. "I assure you, all those who caused these lovely things are far gone by now." Her eyes suddenly appeared forlorn. "With one exception..." She abandoned her thought, and turned back to him. "Now, I hear from a friend of mine that you have quite a bit of Gift in there, no?" she asked, pointing at him. Trunks looked at her skeptically, his eyebrows furrowing doubtfully.  
  
"What are you talking about, Gift? What's a Gift? Do I have this Gift?" The woman rolled her eyes, apathetic. The hand she had pointed at him started to glow with purplish fire. Trunks' eyes widened as he watched the woman's entire body illuminate with eerie amethyst light. Swallowing, he watched her continue to scowl until he nodded. Her body ceased to shine in color.  
  
"Understand now? A friend of mine, a certain Numair Salamin said you would be suitable for the job. Although, you look a bit scrawny," she added in a slightly malicious tone. Trunks looked at her dubiously, and increased his own power to show her the yellowish glow that is achieved from being a Super Saiyan.  
  
"Happy?" He powered back down to human status, and continued to question her. "Now, who are you? Are you some kind of alien?"  
  
She took a second searching for the right words, and opened her mouth to speak. "I suppose you could say I'm a bit of an alien to this place. I am Sir Lady Alanna of Pirates Swoon and Olau, The Lioness and the King's Champion. The land I am from has been befallen with a great trouble. Back, maybe fifty years ago, I killed a duke, by the name of Roger. He was the king's nephew, and would have been the only heir to the thrown of Tortall, if not for Prince Jonathan. Roger schemed to kill Jonathan and the King and Queen, so he might receive the thrown. I uncovered this and murdered him, sending him to the Black God's realms. He came back from the dead, through manipulation of my brother. I killed him a second time, and now, he has again returned. He has cheated death twice, and killed the then King, Jonathan. He has bewitched Tortall, taking the entire realm under his belt. Numair gave me a spell to travel to the future, to find warriors that may be able to vanquish him. Then, he-he died. Numair died. I may as well finish what he told me to do, I suppose."  
  
Trunks looked at her, dumbfounded. This woman had come from the past? This powerful, strong woman who had spoken to him with vigor and vivacity had come from the past? It sounded like a tale that had come straight out of Mirai Trunks' world. She had been so abrupt, spilling out her entire story within one long, slow, painstaking breath. And she did it so willingly. Just like Mirai Trunks did with Goku. It probably was easier to tell him quickly in one breath than to wait for a drawn out procedure, he realized. She looked at him expectantly, awaiting some kind of response. When she got none, she breathed in haughtily.  
  
"Well? Are you going to say nothing? I had to travel halfway across this damnable world to find you and you have nothing to say? Men! All you do is stand there and act dumb!" Her rage boiled and Trunks wondered if she could possibly be an angrier person than his father. A small sweatdrop appeared on Trunks' forehead.  
  
"You're-you're from the past?" She nodded vigorously. "And-and you want me to -?"  
  
"You will come back to the past with me, with whatever other Gifted people you know, and help me defeat that damnable Roger! Do I make myself clear?" she asked menacingly, drawing a knife from under her shirt that he had not seen before. She thrust it up to his neck, acting most Alanna-ish. Trunks backed away, and held up his hands.  
  
"He-y," he said uneasily. "We can all be friends. Right?" His throat cracked. He may be one of the more powerful beings in the universe, but she was very intimidating, to say the least. Her eyes narrowed, then brightened. She flashed him a smile.  
  
"Sure, we can be friends. We can all be friends. Now, let's go get your little Gifted friends, and we'll all have a bloody good time. All right?" she said sarcastically, edging her knife behind his back and poking him with it. "Now move!" Trunks stepped forward, and out of his office. Outside, his secretary screamed at the sight of a woman holding a knife to his back, and was about to call for security, until Trunks stopped her.  
  
"No, Marie, it's all right. Don't worry. I do this all the time. Trust me!" he said, not very assuringly. His secretary promptly fainted, Trunks looking on with pity, Alanna looking on with disgust.  
  
"I hate women like that. They give our gender a bad name." She shrugged, and poked him again. "Move!" They trudged along, meeting quite a few people along the line. Alanna was smart enough to hide her knife when they passed these times, though. They had reached the main entrance of Capsule Corp. with a minimum number of incidents, when Trunks asked a question.  
  
"Hey, you said you killed this Roger guy 50 some-odd years ago, right? How come you look like you're barely twenty?"  
  
"The time travel, I suppose. I'm around seventy now, I think. I stopped counting at about fifty." Trunks sighed inwardly. She was way too old for him. "So, where are your Gifted friends?" she asked coldly.  
  
"Can you fly?" Trunks asked sullenly. She looked at him in alarm.  
  
"Fly? You mean, actually fly, like a bird? Well, I have no wild magic, if that's what you mean. I can't transform myself into an eagle and just soar away. That's Daine's specialty." Trunks scrutinized her, unaware of what to think.  
  
"Um, well, then I guess I'll fly you. It's the only way to get there without taking all day." Alanna's eyes widened.  
  
"You mean, you're a wild mage? And powerful enough to transform and carry me? Wow, Numair was right! You are powerful! I mean, uh, well, then get on with it," she quickly corrected, embarrassed that her amazement showed through her hard exterior. She blushed, and Trunks shrugged as he grabbed her waist.  
  
"Hey, what are you doing?" she shot, making a futile endeavor for his face with her knife.  
  
"I'm just picking you up so we can fly!" he shouted back. Alanna looked at him, surprised.  
  
"Why wouldn't you transform first?" Trunks looked sheepishly at her.  
  
"I don't need to transform to fly," he explained as he hovered slightly off the ground. Alanna took the sight in, watching him with reverence. Finally, she shook her head.  
  
"That one I never expected. You could have warned me. Well then, get it over with." Trunks went over to her and grabbed her tightly around the waist, as he flew off to the Son residence.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
AN: That's chapter one. Goddess, I don't know where the idea for this one came from. It just popped! Odd... well, I know that a DBZ/TP crossover is unheard of, but oh well. I like it, and even if u don't know DBZ, you should read it anyway. There, I said it. BTW, Trunks and Alanna are not going to fall for each other, even though it kinda seems like there is physical attraction going on between them. Ok. I'm done now, I think. Read and Review, or I won't write more!!!!!!!! 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or Tamora Pierce books, duh. Gods, don't u already know that? Tamora Pierce books belong to (who else?) Tamora Pierce and DBZ belongs to Akira Toriyama. That's is, I suppose. Read the fic, now!  
  
Oh yeah, P.S Thank to the reviewers. I wrote all little separate thingies for you, aren't you happy?? Here goes...  
  
Jon25me - Thank you! Anyways, they're all going to be there, with maybe an exception of Gohan. Adult Gohan is very boring, if you haven't noticed. All he does is study, all goddamn day long! He was so much cooler when he was 11 against Cell, or even when he was in high school against Majin Boo. The only time I usually read ffs about him is when Videl dies and he goes and gets with Bra, cuz I like weird couples! So sue me! ( Thanks again!  
  
Kai - Did you really think Trunks was OOC? Well, if you say so. And Vegeta is going back, you can all kill me now. *grins sheepishly* And with Numair, I might have him conveniently come back from the dead... just an idea. I can't promise anything about not killing the others off though. I might have to, to get one of the Saiyans into a rage, blah blah blah, you get the pic.  
  
Jarna Hill - OMG, thank you! I've never been anyone's favorite author!  
  
Werepanther - yes, Goku and Vegeta will do some butt kicking, but I'm not sure yet whose. I may have Alanna kill Roger for what now, the third time? (  
  
That's it. I'm surprised I actually got 4 reviews on this. Like I said, it was totally out of the blue... Alright, enough babbling. On with the story!  
  
When Worlds Collide - Chapter 2  
  
Son Goten had possibly had the worst day of his life.  
  
First, after much grief, his girlfriend of three years, Paris, had broken up with him. She had mumbled something about a football player with a rich father or something like that; it really wasn't too important.  
  
Then, by sheer and complete accident, he had stumbled into the girl's locker room. Take note, this was when they were changing for gym. He had been violently tarred and feathered by half the ninth grade girls, then thrown out of the locker room when everyone was changing classes. That meant that the entire student body population had seen him, Son Goten, ladies man of the senior class, being thrown out of the girl's locker room. Talk about the single most embarrassing thing that could happen right about then.  
  
To top off the day, his psychopathic mother, Chi-chi had just happened to be heading home from the grocery store when school had been dismissed. Waving frantically, she had rushed up to him, planted one big wet kiss on his cheek, and shoved the grocery bags under his arm. Another one of those fun moments.  
  
Goten had thought of calling Trunks, who had just recently gotten an internship at Capsule Corp. while he was getting through college, but shot down the idea when his secretary hadn't picked up the phone. He had tried calling the building itself, but no one had answered. That was rather odd, considering the building was usually as active as Master Roshi was when he was "reading" one of his "men's interest" magazines. 'How queer,' Goten thought as he flopped onto his bed, sighing.  
  
He had been seeing less and less of Trunks lately; his job and college was taking up most of his time. Goten missed his best friend in times like this, he had to admit. So what if he was a little too attached to his best friend? They had been practically brothers since they were little, and had grown accustomed to sharing everything with each other. A slight knock on his door interrupted his chain of thought.  
  
"Yeah? Who is it?" Goten rolled over and pulled out a book, in case it was his overly uptight mother.  
  
"Its me." Goku's voice, clear and crisp as an autumn breeze, sounded through the door. Goten let out his breath.  
  
"Come in, then."  
  
Goku opened the door and walked in quietly, a slight smirk on his face. (A/N: NO! Nothing like the Vegeta smirk! Goku is not cool enough to have the Vegeta smirk! Yes, I do love Vegeta more than Goku. What can I say? () He was wearing that same orange gi he always did, with a blue tee underneath. His hair stuck up in odd places, yet never wavered from its original position. Black eyes, warm and inviting, sparkled in the light of the room. Goten raised an eyebrow appraisingly.  
  
"Hey, Goten. Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to train a little later on, you know, get in some father-son time? I figure it will be fun." Goku smiled and walked over to his son. They had grown slightly distant over the years. Goten was near the end of that independent stage that all teenagers went through. Goku was always out with Vegeta, training. The breech of their relationship had had taken a toll of the father-son duo.  
  
Goten mulled the idea over. "Maybe, dad. I guess so, later on. I have to finish my homework first, though." Goten held up the book he was intending to show to Chi-chi if she had come in unexpectedly.  
  
Goku pursed his lips together, then smiled. "Sure, son. That homework is always a priority. You go ahead, and-"  
  
Abruptly, both Saiyans snapped their heads to the right. An approaching power was coming steadily from the east, advancing quickly. 'Trunks,' Goten thought. 'What is he doing here?'  
  
"Hmm." Goku looked up to the sky. "I suppose Trunks wants something. Well, I'll tell Chi-chi to make something up for him if he wants anything. You want to come greet him?" Looking up, Goten saw expectancy in his father's eyes. He nodded his head.  
  
"Sure dad. I'll come along."  
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
Alanna squirmed in Trunks' arms. "Would you hold still? I can't carry you if you're fidgeting every five seconds," he snapped, his tone agitated from flying a few hundred kilos with a twitching woman under his arm. 'I thought knights were supposed to be more disciplined than this.'  
  
"Well, sorry," she huffed. "Are we almost there?" Trunks looked down at his surroundings and caught a glimpse of the familiar home that housed Goku, Chi-chi and Goten.  
  
"As a matter of fact, yes," he breathed, relieved. "And there's Goten," he said as he brought them down in front of the house. Goku and Goten greeted him, both grinning.  
  
  
  
"Trunks! Good to see you! Been busy, haven't you?" Goku welcomed him.  
  
Trunks returned the smile. "Hi Goku, Goten. This is Alanna. She's-uh-well, she'll tell you. I really don't understand it myself all that much. Let's go inside." Shaking his head, Trunks headed inside the Son residence. Shrugging, Alanna followed him wordlessly, leaving Goku and Goten outside. They glanced at each other, and followed the pair into the house.  
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
"So you're saying that you're from a past where this Roger guy came and killed everyone and he supposedly came back from the dead and he did it for revenge and so he could gain the throne and now you want us to go to the past and help you?" Goku asked, taking a breath after his sentence. Alanna backed slightly away from the Saiyan, then snapped at him.  
  
"Well, yes, weren't you paying attention?" Moaning, she rolled her eyes and took a sip of water that Chi-chi, the ever-gracious hostess, had poured her.  
  
"Humph. So how do we get to the past, anyway?" Goten voiced, frowning slightly. 'Well, at least I'll be out of school for a while. Although I doubt they'll all forget. Still, it's an excuse to slack off'(  
  
"I have a spell that will transport us back. I am the most powerful mage in all of Tortall now, I suppose." She said gently. Pursing her lips together, she narrowed her eyes at the scene in front of her. She could see that the older one, Goku, could hold his own in an important fight. He had the build of a fighter; muscles swelled from under his shirt. The other one, however, Goten his name was, he was a slightly small kid. Not much of a build, but then again, he might be able to prove his worth. Trunks she had seen could hold his weight just by the way he had handled her when they were flying. Only someone decently strong would be able to hold Alanna when she fidgeted. She smiled in spite of herself.  
  
"So, when are we to leave? Are there any more magi that we can gather together for this fight?" she asked the group.  
  
Goku looked uneasily at Trunks. "Well, there's always Vegeta-"  
  
"No, no, absolutely not. He is NOT coming along." Trunks eyed him jittery. "My father is a mad man! If he doesn't to kill us all before we even start fighting, he'll at least destroy half of Tortall in the meantime- "  
  
"But he is one of the strongest in the history of the universe, and we need him," Goten spoke up. Trunks looked at his best friend in horror and animosity. He was about to speak up, but Goku caught him.  
  
"We need him Trunks, whether you like it or not. He's coming."  
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
Vegeta's crisp laughter sounded through Alanna's ears.  
  
"Let me get this straight. You want me - ME (!) - to go and help your puny backwater people? You have something else coming to you, whore-"  
  
Alanna's clenched fist drove straight for Vegeta's nose, knocking his head back. For a second, no one said anything. Slowly, Vegeta's head came back to its normal position. He was smiling, his smirk perpetually implanted on his face. Alanna's face was purple from rage. Trunks and Goten backed up a bit, partly from Vegeta's reaction, and partly from Alanna's. Goku was standing near the two, ready to break up the fight in case it got out of hand.  
  
Vegeta laughed again.  
  
"Woman, how strong are you in your world?" Alanna clenched her teeth together.  
  
"Strong enough," she hissed, and pulled her fist back to punch again. Vegeta grabbed her hand before she had the chance to propel it into his face a second time.  
  
"Well, if that's the case, I'd say that this will be quite an easy problem to solve," he whispered mockingly. Alanna pulled back from him, releasing his grip, and glared.  
  
"So I take it you'll come." Alanna massaged her sore fingers.  
  
"Humph. I never turned down a fight before." Vegeta continued to smirk evilly (A/N: OMG, I love that smirk! He works it so well!). "So when are we leaving?"  
  
"As soon as possible," Alanna retorted, glancing at the three other Saiyans. "I suggest you finish whatever needs to be done and we'll meet at Capsule Corp. tomorrow. Trunks, I'll stay with you?" He shrugged.  
  
"Sure, why not. We have plenty of extra rooms here, and my mom will at least be happy she can show someone else her experiments." Trunks smiled faintly.  
  
"That sounds great, but Goten and I really have to be getting back home. We still have to convince Chi-chi to let us come." Goku smiled sheepishly, while Goten scratched his head and sweatdropped. Alanna raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Ha! That woman of yours is still bossing you around? If it were me, I would have put her in a space capsule and sent her to Namek years ago!" Goku glared at Vegeta, but dismissed it. Goten shared the same reaction; they were all used to Vegeta's antics by now. Alanna, however, was appalled by Vegeta's comments.  
  
"How dare you! That's his wife and mother you're talking about!" She turned to Goku and Goten. "How can you let him get away with this? He point blank insults your family, and you just stand by and watch? Is that how you're going to treat my people if they're in danger? Just stand by and watch?"  
  
"Alanna, please-" Goku started, but she had already stormed off.  
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
Trunks found Alanna in the garden, outside. She was practicing some sort of movement, "a battle technique," he brooded. He came closer and watched her; she must have been a damn good knight, to have that kind of concentration. Sweat rolled down her forehead; they had left her alone for a while now. If anyone, the Saiyans know best to let someone cool down before they go storming in. A leaf crunched under his feet; Alanna whirled around to rest in a fighting position. Seeing it was only Trunks and not his bigoted father, she relaxed.  
  
"You have good technique," he mused out loud. Alanna glared and returned to training, still perturbed from the fight. "You don't want to lower you left elbow so much though, it'll make the delivery harder." Alanna mumbled something under her breath. "I know what you're thinking," Trunks said "I know that you think that we're either opinionated, self centered beasts or cowards who won't stand up for themselves or others." Alanna's routine slowed down a bit halting ever so slightly. "But you're wrong. True, my father is a bigoted, self-serving ass at times, but we're used to it. It would be pointless for Goku to have gone and started a fight with him when one, we knew we would have to fight tomorrow, two, the entire house would most likely be destroyed, and three, we knew it would be just pointless. Sometimes, you just don't fight."  
  
Alanna halted in her training to look at the boy. "Doing nothing isn't my style." Trunks raised an eyebrow appreciatively, and looked to her.  
  
"All right, let me ask you something, then. When Tortall was at war in the past, which I'm guessing it was, what did you do then? Wars are a constant cycle of waiting for orders, plans, and everything in between. What did you do then, Alanna?"  
  
Alanna was flustered by his question. He was right of course; wars were just a repetitive bore after a while. Unexpectedly, she had a flashback of the Tusaine-Tortall war, when Jon had kissed her for the first time...  
  
"At least I can be part of the planning then," she snapped, even as she gave a defeated sigh. She was a bit too tired to fight right now. Night had fallen; the only light shining from the artificial beams that hung suspended in the air. She had trained for what seemed like hours until Trunks had came. Her body might have been young now, but her mind, on the contrary, was not.  
  
Trunks, seeing that she had given in, closed the remaining distance between them and started to lead her to the house. "Well, you can be the commander, then. But can you please be the commander in the morning? It's quite late, you know." Yawning, Alanna realized that she had to be up early tomorrow if she wanted to get a head start on that spell. It would take all of her concentration, and even the tiniest distraction would set her off. She needed to be fully rested to even think of performing the spell.  
  
"Right," she said quietly and headed inside the darkened house.  
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
Alanna woke early in the morning, completing her exercises in a sleepy half-conscious state. Her night had been restless; dreams of Roger laced her thoughts into uneasy and excited thoughts that made her body queasy.  
  
Her thoughts of Numair and Jon had been worse.  
  
Trunks had knocked on her door a few minutes earlier that morning and told her that whatever preparations she had to be made needed to be done now; they were leaving in an hour. Alanna had hurriedly finished after only a short half-hour and settled into the bath that Bulma, Trunks' mother had showed her. The contraption was odd; strange levers and valves were used to turn the water on and off. Bulma had shown Alanna how to use the bath, although the knight-errant wasn't quite sure if she was quite certain how to use it. After a substantial amount of water was emptied into the bath, she lowered a foot into the tub.  
  
Alanna shrieked in alarm and jerked her foot out of the tub. The temperature of the water was colder than ice; it numbed her foot so suddenly that she had to bite her lip to keep from making any more noise.  
  
Slowly turning one of the other levers with her fingers, still biting her now coppery lip, she felt the water start to heat up in the tub. Alanna wiped her face with the water from the basin. Cupping her face in her hands, she rubbed her eyes as hot liquid flowed out of them. She hadn't cried in a while now, swearing that she wouldn't mourn for the losses suffered in Roger's killing spree until they were avenged.  
  
That oath had been broken, and she wept.  
  
After her bath, Alanna left her room, looking for Trunks and the rest of their mismatched group. Bulma had assigned her a room close to the kitchen, so no matter where she was, she would always find someone close. In this case, it was Bra, Trunks' little sister.  
  
"Hi," Bra said cheerfully as chubby fingers poured cereal into a bowl. Alanna wondered what this strange type of food was, and took the liberty of asking just that.  
  
"It's cereal. Would you like some?" Bra held out the box to the red head, which she took reluctantly. "I'll get you a bowl." Bra ran to the cupboard and took a large, brightly coloured bowl from the sink. "Here," she said, handing the bowl to Alanna. "Pour yourself some."  
  
Alanna looked at the bowl and box of cereal in perplexity. Alanna took the bowl, and, setting it down on the table, poured cereal inside of it as she had seen Bra do. Then, albeit some questionable thoughts, she took a handful from the bowl in her hands and began to eat.  
  
Bra met her with a questioning stare as Alanna tasted the cereal. It was... oh, so sweet! Similar to chocolate, it was delicious! Bra stuttered when she saw Alanna begin to dig in.  
  
"Um, Miss, Alanna? Why are you eating it like that? I was just about to get you a spoon, but if you, um, want, to eat it like that, then you're welcome, I suppose..." Bra forced a weak smile, and Alanna blushed in embarrassment.  
  
"Oh. Uh, ok, a spoon would be nice, I surmise." Alanna's face was as crimson as her red hair.  
  
"Sure. Do you want milk with that?" Bra asked.  
  
"Is that how you usually have it?" Alanna smiled helplessly. This new world was very different from Tortall, its customs rather severe. She should have studied more before she came here.  
  
"Well, yes, usually," was Bra's answer.  
  
"Then of course I would like some." Bra got a spoon from a nearby drawer and milk from the refrigerator. She poured the milk for Alanna, just in case she didn't know how to use that, much to Alanna's supreme embarrassment. Then, giving her the spoon, Bra returned to her seat. They ate in silence until Trunks came in, fully dressed and ready to go.  
  
"Hey guys. About ready, Alanna?" Alanna nodded, putting the spoon to her half eaten cereal down and rising out of her seat.  
  
"Goodbye, Bra. Thank you for the cereal." Bra smiled happily as Alanna left the kitchen, following Trunks to the living room.  
  
"Goku and Goten are already here. My father is still training; he'll be down in a few minutes." Alanna grinned.  
  
"He's so worried he has to train to the last minute?" Alanna said with satisfaction.  
  
"He usually always does this. It's not much of a change for him. You could say he's a slight training fanatic." Alanna's smile slightly faded, her ego deflated.  
  
The two made their way to the living room and exchanged a greeting with Goku and Goten. They waited for a few minutes, and exchanging even fewer words. Finally, Vegeta was seen striding proudly into the room, smelling about as sweet as a stormwing. Alanna wrinkled her nose in disgust, but said nothing.  
  
"Well, wench, are you ready?" Alanna glared and ground her teeth together before speaking.  
  
"Of course. I've committed the spell to memory, all you have to do is stand in a square around me. Now, Trunks, you go over there, and Vegeta, stand by the box with those moving pictures on it. Goku, you go by the chair, and Goten, uh, right over there will be good," she said, pointing at the computer. "Now, all I have to do it say the words in the language of the Ancient Ones, and we'll be there."  
  
"Well, then do it woman! And be quick about it!" Vegeta snapped impatiently. He had folded his arms over his chest, in a typical Vegeta position and was looking perfectly bored. Alanna glared again, and began the incantation.  
  
"Eth Solarus oth Mithras, a thenos ath Nadar, Enimos en al Jonarus..." This particular incantation went on for another few verses, and light surrounded the purple eyed mage. Purple colored magic wove around the five warriors, and they were gone.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(A/N: Yay! I'm done after much procrastination! Ain't it great! I know it was a bit angsty, but jeez, give her a break! Almost everyone she loves is dead, including Jon and Numie, and it would be wrong if she wasn't a bit depressed! The line Eth solarus oth Mithras doesn't belong to me, it belongs to whoever created that line in the Dragonlance books. It means "My honor is my life" in Solamnic. I really recommend that you read some of them, they're truly awesome books. Ah, any ideas, criticism, flames, whatever, are welcome. You know the drill. Oh, and I have a handy form of blackmail on my side: You no review, I no write! Aight? R&R my adorable little reviewers! (  
  
*~Kaori~* 


End file.
